This was another fic written when the muse was being stubborn. A picture from the wonderful Joodiff sparked the imagination, and this fic was born. I don't normaly do this type of story, and this is my first in this fandom. So, sit back and joy, and please let me know what you think.
The cobbles were wet, the rain seeping through his jacket, shirt and trousers. He was cold, unnaturally cold, and that was not a good sign. This wasn't how it was supposed to end, but he wasn't surprised. What he was surprised about was how long it took for it to actually happen. Turning his head he looked to his right, then his left. The alley was empty, not a soul in sight. The tiredness was growing harder to fight, his eyes drifting shut as he tried in vain to keep them open. Moving his right arm he tried to reach into his pocket, find his phone and at least attempt to save himself. Pain, pain and cold would be the last thing he felt as his fingertips brushed the bottom of his empty pocket.
His phone wasn't there, maybe it was in the other pocket. The problem was if he moved his left hand then he would bleed out quicker, his finger plugging up the small cylindrical wound in his abdomen. He wondered if this was what doctors and surgeons did, sticking fingers inside wounds to stop the person on the table bleeding out. Using every bit of reserve energy he had Boyd dragged his hand out his right pocket, slowly edging it over his chest. He could feel the edge of his jacket, trying to pull it closer by one of the buttons. There was something in his pocket weighing it down, the jacket slipping back to the floor every time.
"Fuck." He hissed out through gritted teeth.
If he could just reach his phone he could call for help. Suddenly the phone started to ring, the silence of the dark alley broken by the shrill sound. He needed to answer it, to get help, to stay alive. Gritting his teeth he pushed his arm over his chest, groping around for the pocket of his jacket with his fingertips. When he found it he pulled her edge closer, his fingers delving inside to feel for the phone. Just as he touched it it stopped ringing, a low groan of frustration escaping his lips. He didn't need to see the phone. All he had to do was open it and speed dial one of the team, that would be enough. Once he was connected he could be traced, they would come to find him, pull him back from the abyss. Boyd managed to get his fingers around the phone, flipping it open as he fought to keep a grip. Finding the keys he pressed and held the button that was at position one on the phone, a direct link to her. He didn't know if the call went through, or if it connected, or if she answered if it did connect, all he knew was the darkness that swallowed him up.
2 hours earlier……
"Everyone just go home, this is a waste of time. We'll pick it up fresh in the morning." Spencer and Stella looking up at Boyd, his hands stuffed deep in his trouser pockets as he stood in the doorway to his office.
"You sure boss? They might still ring." Spencer cursing himself for asking, but the deep duty bound copper in him doing it anyway.
"I'm sure unless you want to catch up on paperwork, or sort the files out that were brought over to be stored." Spencer quickly pulling his coat on incase Boyd actually found something for him to do.
Stella was already stood at the door, coat on and bag in hand waiting. Spencer just shook his head and laughed, she wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth.
"See you tomorrow, boss." Spencer holding the door open for Stella as they left the squad room together.
The silence was perfect, the building quite as it so late. Taking his glasses off he threw them on the desk, rubbing his tired eyes as he thought about what to do. He should go home, it was very late after all. He hadn't spoken to Frankie all day, not since she kissed him goodbye that morning as she got out of the car. He should phone her, let her know he wouldn't be home. He reached out for the phone, his fingers just touching the receiver when it started to ring. Picking it up quickly he brought it to his ear.
"Hello." The other end completely silent. "Hello, can I help you?" Trying again to get a response.
"Meet me in Strawberry Lane, thirty minutes, don't be late." The line going dead a the caller hung up.
"Shit." Looking at the clock on the wall as he considered calling the others back.
They had probably arrived home already, possibly gone to bed. He didn't need to wake them, it was a simple hand over, a switch of information, he could do it on his own. Shutting down everything he made his way out the office, up the stairs and out into the cold wet car park it had stopped raining but the ground was still soaked, puddles formed where the tarmac dipped or small pothole formed. He opened his car and threw his coat on the back seat, he didn't need that on as well as his jacket. Looking at the car's clock as he started the engine he saw he had twenty minutes left to get where he was going, plenty of times to get as there was no traffic on the road.
With hindsight, he should have phoned Frankie, let her at least know where he was. But hindsight was a bitch, especially when you've been stabbed with a screwdriver and no one knows where you are. Everything looked normal when he arrived, no one in sight, the place well lit and fairly open. His overconfidence should have been a warning, the fact it was gone midnight and this part of town was so secluded setting off alarms bells. But he wasn't concentrating, the lateness of the hour and the fact he just wanted to go home making him lose focus.
He didn't hear or see anyone approach him, didn't get a look at the person until it was too late, his retreating back and the long thin object in his hand the only thing he saw as he dropped to his knees. He'd been stabbed before, twice actually, but it hadn't felt like this, had bled like this. As he toppled forward he could feel the rapid escape of blood, could feel it pumping out of him. This was not good, not good all. Pressing on the wound was doing nothing, the blood still pouring through his fingers. His fingers, or more to the point, a single finger, his only hope of stopping the bleeding, or at least stem it. He closed his eyes as he moved his hand just enough for his pointer finger to touch the entry wound, without a second thought he stabbed his finger in the hole, his vision blurring as the world spun. He could not blackout, would not blackout. He needed to stay awake, to focus, to think of something else, anything else.
Brown eyes, beautiful chocolate brown eyes with flecks of gold in them. Shoulder length brown hair, and a smile that could make his heart skip a beat and light up any room. Frankie, his Frankie. The reason he was still fighting, the one thing that gave his life purpose. He would not leave her alone, he needed her as much as she needed him.
When the phone rang Frankie picked it up after the second ring, only one person would be calling her on her mobile at this time of night.
"Pete, where the hell are you?" Not waiting for him to speak as she saw his name on the small screen as she answered the call.
Silence, complete silence. Frankie pulled the phone away from her ear and checked the call was still connected, the timer showing the seconds ticking away.
"Boyd, you there?" Frankie's paranoia ramping up a notch when she was again greeted by silence. "Come on, Pete, this isn't funny. Where are you?" Trying to keep the rising panic at bay.
He couldn't make a butt call, his phone was a flip and it was in his jacket pocket. He had to deliberately open it to ring her. She needed to think, something wasn't right.
"Pete, stay on the line. Don't disconnect, keep the call going." Walking towards the house phone as she continued to talk into her mobile.
Spencer, she would call Spencer, he would know what to do. Keeping the mobile on her ear with one hand she dialled Spencer's mobile number on the house phone, every once in a while say Boyd's name into the mobile.
"Boyd," Spencer answering his mobile groggily.
"Spencer, it's Frankie. Where is Boyd? He's rang my mobile but there's silence, no sound, no movement, nothing. Is he with you?" Knowing by the sound of Spencer's voice he had been asleep when she rang.
"Frankie. What? Boyd was in the office when we left. The informant did ring so he sent Stella and me home. Is the call to your mobile still connected?" Spencer now wide awake and alert, already pulling his jeans on as his brain tried to process why was happening.
"Yeah, it's just silent. What do you want me to do?" The bile rising in her throat as she heard Spencer moving about on the other end of the phone.
"Stay connected, don't hang up. Do you have enough power to make it to the office? Can you meet me there?" His keys in the door unlocking it as he stuck his feet in his trainers.
"Yes, it's just been unplugged. You want me to meet you at HQ? What about Stella and Grace?" Frankie grabbing her coat from beside her as she looked down at her pyjama pants.
"I'll call them on the way in. You just meet me there, and don't disconnect the call." Frankie hearing the engine of Spencer's car start down the line.
"Right, see you soon, Spencer. Bye." Not waiting for a reply as she ended the call to Spencer and quickly looked at the mobile phone.
"Pete, hang in there. We'll find you, I'm putting you on speaker, I can't drive and hold this thing. I hope you charged your battery, we need to stay connected." Shutting the front door behind her as she held her keys and coat in one hand and the phone in the other.
Placing the phone on the passenger seat she started the car and jumped when music blasted from the radio. She quickly turned it off, looking back at the phone as the car roared to life in the quiet street. Nearly twenty minutes, the timer on the phone showing how long the call had been connected. Between trying to focus on the road and glancing at the phone, Frankie was surprised she made it to the huge building housing the CCU offices in one piece. Spencer's car was already parked, and just as she got out Stella pulled up beside her, Grace in the passenger seat.
"Frankie, are you okay?" The mothering instinct in Grace taking over as she approached Frankie.
"Where the hell is he Grace?" Frankie's eyes stinging as her mind played over the possibility.
"He'll Be Fine, Frankie. This is Boyd we're talking about." Frankie knowing by Graces tone that Grace was just as worried as she was.
Grace wrapped her arm around Frankie's shoulder as the three women walked side by side into the grey building. Spencer was in Boyd office when they walked through the double doors.
"Thank god. Stella, get that mobile from Frankie, run a trace, find out where it is. I've got a trace running on the last incoming call to here. I've got an ambulance and cars on standby, we'll find him, Frankie." Seeing Frankie hand over her mobile to Stella then Grace attempt to guide her to her office.
Frankie hadn't even sat down when Stella yelled.
"I've found him, or at least his phone. The calls emanating from somewhere on Strawberry Lane, about fifteen minutes from here." Frankie nearly running back out of Graces office as Spencer called in Boyd's possible location.
"Let's go." Everyone making for the door together.
Grace sat in the back of Spencer's car with Frankie, while Stella sat beside Spencer, flicking on the blues and twos as Spencer's car screeched out the car park. The fifteen-minute drive took seven and a half, Frankie all but timing it as she looked down at the open phone in her hand. Suddenly sirens sounded both outside the car and from the speakers on the small silver handset, they were close, very close. Spencer just about did a handbrake turn into the small lane, water flying in the air from the slick cobbles. Police cars and an ambulance pulled in from the other two entrances to the lane, the place lit up with lights and blaring sirens. There was a scramble of people as everyone got out of Spencer's car, all yelling for Boyd at the same time. The police officers doing the same as they got out the other two police cars, everyone shouting Boyd's name in some variation.
"Over here, paramedics, quickly." A shout coming from behind a huge black shop bin.
Frankie was moving before her mind even registered it, the rest of the team right behind her as they shouted her name. She stopped dead as she approached the bin, a set of legs visible from in between the two paramedics who were knelt down. She recognised them trousers, had ironed and pressed them not twenty-four hours earlier.
"Pete, Ohh my god. Pete." Frankie moving around both the paramedics so she could finally see his face.
Frankie dropped to her knees, her pyjamas pants becoming soaked instantly from the rain on the road. She kept blinking as her vision blurred, tears now rolling down her cheeks as she took in the paramedics working frantically on Boyd. Frankie leaned closer to Boyd, his head between her knees as she cupped his face her fingertips going under his chin as she stroked a finger over his lips.
"He's not breathing, shit, he's not breathing." Panic taking over as Frankie felt for any sign of Boyd breathing.
"He is breathing, just very shallow. His pulse is weak and he's lost a lot of blood, we need to move him now." The paramedics looking straight at Frankie.
"Frankie, come out the way, let them do their jobs. He's in the best hands now. We'll follow behind the ambulance." Spencer reaching from Frankie as she dropped her head to his, kissing his forehead then his lips.
Spencer had to all but pry Frankie to her feet, Grace coming to support her as they walked her back to Spencer's car. Frankie wasn't aware of the car journey to the hospital, only the hard chairs and the bright lights of the hospital hurting her back and eyes as sat staring off into space. The noise and the humdrum of accident and emergency fading away leaving just her, alone with her thoughts. She was aware of cups being thrust into her hands, bitter hot liquid going down her throat as he ex-colleagues mulled and fussed around her.
"Which one of you is Frankie Wharton?" Her name being spoken enough to kick start her brain and body.
"I am." Frankie instantly standing up to face what looked like a surgeon.
"Are you Mr Boyd's wife?" The surgeon looking Frankie up and down as if questioning her.
"I am his fiancé and his next of kin." The steel tone with Frankie addressed the surgeon making Grace and Spencer smirk.
"Right, well," the surgeon shrinking back slightly as Frankie all but squared up to him. "We have managed to stabilise Mr Boyd. His wound was quite severe, causing some extensive internal damage. If it's wasn't for his own quick thinking he wouldn't be here too now. By using his own finger to plug the stab wound he effectively stopped himself bleeding out. There was damage to his intestine, colon, and part of his left kidney. We've repaired as much damage as we can, removing the damaged of his kidney and stitching up the rest. He did lose a lot of blood so we got him on a continuous transfusion."
"I want to see him." Frankie hearing every word the surgeon had said but wanting to see him with her eyes
"He's just being transferred to the intensive care unit now, as soon as he's settled you can see him, but only briefly. If you want to make your way up there now someone will find you when he's done. Is there any questions?" The surgeon looking first at Frankie then the rest of the team who were all stood flanking her.
"No, I'm a forensic pathologist so know how it all works. Thank you." Frankie's guard dropping as she held out her hand to the surgeon.
"You're welcome. Floor four when you're ready." The surgeon turning away from the group as Frankie's world started to spin.
Spencer had his arm around her in a flash, her body leaning heavily against him.
He managed to get them other seated, Stella appearing seconds later with a cup of water. Frankie took the cup shakily, her vision was still fuzzy around the edges.
"Deep breaths, in and out. You're okay, Frankie." Spencer's hand running up and down her back as she brought the cup to her lips.
She took several sips, the cool water surprising the urge she had to throw up. After several minutes she stood up slowly, Spencer and Stella standing close by just in case.
"You okay?" Spencer's hand still on her back as she nodded her head and took one small step after the other.
The four of them arrived at the intensive care unit, Frankie going to the desk and asking if Boyd had arrived. The nurse informed her he was just getting settled, she just needed to take a seat and someone would come to get her when he was ready. Frankie sat between Grace and Spencer, Grace taking hold of Frankie's hand as Stella sat opposite them.
"Has anyone phoned Eve?" Frankie sitting up suddenly as she looked at her friends.
"I did, I left a message with Mike." Stella giving a weak smile as Frankie nodded her head.
The silence settled between them all again, Graces hand now resting with Frankie's on her thigh.
"Frankie you're pyjama pants are still wet." Grace let go of Frankie's hand as she squeezed hold of the damp material.
"Yeah, when I knelt beside him in the street. I didn't even realise they were wet." Frankie shrugging off the fact just as a nurse walked in.
"Frankie?" The nurse in the doorway looking straight at Grace.
Frankie stood up and looked down at Grace, Spencer already had his head hung as he shook it from side to side. The young nurse looked between Frankie and Grace, the obvious mistake she had made hanging in the air like a guillotine.
"This way." The nurse gesturing for Frankie to follow her.
"Frankie must be really worried, that's twice tonight she would have normally chewed someone up and spat them out." Spencer seeing the slouch in Frankie's shoulders as she slipped past the nurse in the doorway.
When the nurse stopped at the door to the single bedroom Frankie took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly through her nose. She nodded her head at the nurse who pushed the door open and entered the room just in front of Frankie. The room was dark, the only light being a small lamp beside the bed pointing to the wall. There were wires and machines everywhere, a metal transfusion stand beside the bed with bags of blood hanging from it. Somewhere amongst all of that was Boyd, his outline just visible under the blankets covering him. Frankie took a step closer to the bed, his outline becoming more defined. It was blurry around the edges though, the tears fighting to break free that she fought to keep hold of making him look out of focus. Taking another step closer brought her to the edge of the bed, the blankets tucked up to his shoulders.
Frankie raised her hand, let it hover in the air above his chest before gently lowering it. She could feel the steady rise and fall of the machines, see the mask on his face as it slowly helped fill his lungs with oxygen. At least he was only on oxygen, there was no ventilation tube doing the breathing for him. His shoulders were bare, the wires disappearing under the blankets that were attached to his chest and finger keeping track of his heart rate and pulse. There were no visible marks she could see, then again she hadn't seen his abdomen.
"I'll leave you alone for a little while if you need anything just press the buzzer." The nurse leaving her alone with Boyd.
"Ohh, Boyd. What the hell have you done this time?" Her hand burrowing under the tucked in blankets so she could find his hand.
His hand was a warm, heavy against her own, his fingers lying loosely against hers.
She looked at the monitors, saw the steady reading of his heartbeat, the constant beep showing he was alive. Keeping ahold of his hand she leant slightly over the bed, moving just enough so she could see his face properly. The mask covered most of lower face, his beard obscured by the plastic. His face looked so pale, so vulnerable. She could make out the movements under his closed eyelids, his mind lost in a dream. Frankie squeezed the hand she was still holding, using her other hand to brush away the hair that had come out of place and rested on his forehead.
"I'm not used to you this quiet, this still. You need to open your eyes, Pete. Show me these beautiful, fierce and stubborn brown eyes of yours, Boyd." Getting as close as she could to his face so she could place a kiss on his temple. "Wake up for me, Peter, I need you." A single tear running down her face and landing on his cheek.
He still held a faint trace of his expensive soap and aftershave, the smell so unique to him she smiled a little.
"I have to go, but I'll be back in the morning, I promise. Don't go anywhere I can't follow you, okay." Kissing his cool skin one last time before she stood up.
Tucking his hand back under the blankets she went and stood at the door, glancing back at him before she left the room.
"I love you, Peter Boyd." Her voice a mere whisper as she turned and left the room.
"How is he?" Grace, Spencer and Stella all standing to greet her as she entered the waiting room.
"Pale, on oxygen and getting blood pumped into him, but he's alive." Focusing on the important fact he was alive after having major surgery.
"Let's get you home, you can get a couple of hours sleep before you come back in the morning." The team guiding Frankie out of the hospital and back towards Spencer's car.
When they dropped her off she was adamant she didn't need looking after, she was a big girl and could look after herself. After some debating the team did eventually leave her, her back leaning heavily against the solid wood door of Boyd's house as she heard Spencer's car pull away. She turned and locked the door, trudging slowly up the stairs and into their bedroom. Stripping everything off she climbed into bed on his side, his aftershave, shampoo and body wash seemingly to envelop her as she tucked herself in. Hugging his pillow to her chest she fell into a fitful slumber, nightmares full of body bags, blood, and death.